


I'm Under Your Spell

by Zetal (Rodinia)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Consent is Sexy, Dean Makes Bad Pie Jokes, Dean Visits Sam Regularly, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Natural Witch!Sam, Pre-Series, Secrets Coming Out, Sibling Incest, Stanford Era, Truth Potions, implied Demon Brady, past Dean/Cassie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 08:13:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17977628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rodinia/pseuds/Zetal
Summary: You don't break into a witch's home and drink an unlabeled liquid sitting on the table.  You just don't.  Not if you have any sense whatsoever.  There's so much that can happen because of it.Dean has no sense.  Sam made the potion and left it unattended, therefore it can't be poison or anything too awful.  Right?  What's the worst that could happen?Oh.  He could admit to his deepest, darkest secret.  The one he swore to himself that Sam would never know anything about.





	I'm Under Your Spell

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Fic Facers Auction! Thanks so much for supporting this awesome project.
> 
> Inspired by a prompt from otpisms on Tumblr. (Normally, I would provide a link, but when I went to the blog to get it I got redirected to a porn site.)
> 
> OTP Idea #760
> 
> Person A is a witch with a bit of an unhealthy obsession for Person B. Person A attempts to make a love potion for B but messes up and gives the potion to Person C instead. C becomes falls in love with A instantly and A has to find a way to get rid of the effects from Person C.
> 
> Bonus points if Person A ends up finding out that they like Person C a lot more and that Person B is kind of a prick.

Sam stared in horror at the empty glass on the table. Before he went out for a study date with Jess and Luis and Brady, it had been full of a love potion. Not really a love potion. More like a truth potion that only worked on love. If someone was in love, the potion would push them toward confessing that love. If not, the potion would give them some nice hydration and a couple extra vitamins. Sam had intended to give it to Brady when his roommate got home from the study session. Their friends had been saying for months that Brady was in love with him, and Sam was curious enough to use the potion to find out.

Brady was still there. There was no way he could have beaten Sam home. Therefore, someone else had drunk the entire thing. Sam wouldn’t be getting answers about Brady’s feelings for him tonight, but someone might be learning something that, hopefully, would be welcome news. The question was who? Who could have gotten into Sam’s apartment without causing any kind of disturbance Sam had noticed?

…Dean. It had to be Dean. His brother had the skills to break in without leaving a tell, along with the foolhardiness it took to break into a natural witch’s apartment and drink a random liquid in an unlabeled glass. It looked like beer, and that would be good enough for Dean. He didn’t even have the excuse about not knowing about Sam’s powers. He’d been the one to notice Sam doing little things like floating a pen toward himself when he was studying. Sam couldn’t do it when he tried, not then, but if he was distracted enough, things happened around him.

At first, Dean had been freaked out, but it didn’t take long for Sam to reassure him that he was still the same old Sam, still the pain-in-the-posterior little brother he’d always been. Just, now, he had powers. Dean had agreed to keep the secret from Dad, and it wasn’t hard. When he got to Stanford, Sam joined a witches’ group he heard about on the first day of class. He didn’t expect there to be any actual witches there, but Max Banes had approached him after a meeting to show him his powers. “You’re one of us. I can tell. I can teach you if you want.”

Sam had agreed to that. Working through potions and objects had helped Sam learn to control his innate powers, and he gained strength more quickly than Max had expected. Dean had encouraged it – as long as Sam promised there wouldn’t be bodily fluids spraying around. If nothing else, being a witch kept Sam part of the hunter’s world even if he didn’t go back to hunting. Dean had also been the victim of a couple of mishaps like this before. He really ought to know better than to drink a random liquid around here, but he refused to learn.

 

The toilet flushing told Sam where Dean was. He could wait for Dean to finish up in there before asking Dean if he was a giant idiot. When Dean was finished washing his hands, he came out to the kitchen. Sam held up the glass. “Did you drink this?”

“Yes. Yes I did. It was delicious, best beer I’ve ever had, thank you for making it. You always make such good-tasting drinks, even the ones that have side effects that aren’t so nice. Say, do you think you could do pie instead of potions? Pie-tions?” Dean paused a second to grin at his joke.

Sam was now convinced that Dean had drunk the potion. Thankfully, there was an antidote, and it wouldn’t take Sam long to whip it up. He opened the refrigerator.

Unfortunately, Dean kept talking. Sam tried to tune it out, but why was Dean blabbering like this, anyway? He’d barely been able to get three words out of him over the last couple months. “I’d say that getting one of your drinks was the best thing about coming to Palo Alto, but that would be a lie. The best thing about coming to Palo Alto is getting to see you. Phone calls just aren’t the same as being in the same room as you, seeing your face when I make jokes like pie-tions – although that wasn’t a joke, that would be awesome, I have faith in you. Getting to touch your hair and if I’m lucky see you with your shirt off… there’s so much I miss about you, Sammy.”

Sam paused in making the antidote as Dean paused in talking. At least Sam had an answer for why Dean was talking, if he was interpreting this correctly. The potion wouldn’t make up feelings that weren’t there. The two of them stared at each other in silence for a few seconds, until finally Dean asked, “Why can’t I tell you that was a joke or it didn’t come out right or something like that?”

“Um. The potion you drank… it’s a targeted truth potion. It shouldn’t have worked on a question like if you drank something, but… you drank the whole thing when it’s meant to be used just a little at a time. I was gonna stop Brady before he could drink too much…” Sam shook his head and went back to mixing the antidote. “You can shut up if you want to, but I don’t mind if you keep talking.”

“Why would you want to hear that? Why would you want to hear about my big fat gay love for my brother?” Dean slapped a hand over his mouth. After a bit, he let it drop. “Can you forget you heard that?”

“I don’t think so, sorry, but I can answer that.” Sam turned away from the antidote to catch Dean’s eyes. At this point, there was no way to misinterpret Dean’s words, so he felt very safe in answering honestly. “I’d want to hear about it because of my big fat gay love for my brother.”

Dean stared. Eventually, he shook his head, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I need a beer. A real one.”

“Yeah, probably. You know where they are.” Sam turned back to the antidote, trying hard not to smile too hard. So Dean liked him back. This was going to get interesting, and he couldn’t wait to hear more. Just didn’t seem fair to make Dean talk about this while he was under the influence and Sam wasn’t, and there was no way Sam was waiting until he had more love truth potion ready.

There was one cabinet in the kitchen that even Dean knew better than to go into. It was spelled shut, and forcing the issue would result in the person being injured. That’s where Sam kept any supplies that were toxic unless prepared properly, intoxicating, or otherwise dangerous. It’s also where he kept an emergency stash of miniature pies for when Dean showed up unexpectedly like this. He retrieved one now, a cherry pie that would compliment the vaguely almond taste of the antidote. Very carefully, he poured the antidote over the pie. He presented it to Dean with a spoon. “Best I could do for a pie-tion on short notice. Eat that, then we’ll talk.”

“Do we have to?” Dean took the spoon and dug into the pie. “Oh, man, that tastes awesome. What is this?”

“The antidote to the truth potion. Once you finish, then yes, we kind of have to talk. Don’t you think, considering what we just admitted to?” Unless Dean was suggesting they skip the talk and just go straight to bed, which Sam was only opposed to on the grounds that if he let Dean wriggle out of the talk now, they’d never get around to it. Just like they’d never really gotten around to talking about why Dean had ignored John’s threat about having to choose when Sam walked out on his family. Now, Sam wondered.

Dean finished the pie quickly. “What’s there to talk about? You may love me, but you were gonna truth potion your roommate, so…”

“So trying to move on is a bad thing? What were you gonna do, spend the rest of your life drinking and hooking up? Sitting in a dark room feeling bad? I didn’t think there was a snowball’s chance you’d ever think about me that way, never knew you were even into guys at all. If they were right about Brady, he’s a good guy… although he’s been different since Thanksgiving. If not, maybe see if something could happen with Jess. Now, it doesn’t matter, because I can have what I really want.” If he could get through whatever bullshit Dean was going to shovel out to get around this.

Dean downed half his beer. “There was a girl. A few months ago. Her name was Cassie. I really liked her, and when I was with her, I could forget about you.” He paused, brow furrowed. “You know what I mean, right? I didn’t forget you existed or that you were the most important person in my life even though you’re at Stanford now. I forgot… when I was, y’know, _with_ her, I was with _her_. Not you.”

Sam got up and headed for the fridge to get his own beer. The jealousy was irrational. Dean was talking in the past tense. “So what happened? Is this why you stopped talking to me?”

“Yeah. I, uh…” Dean stared at his almost-empty beer. “I told her the big secret. The truth about what I do. She told me to break up with her like a man instead of making up some crazy-ass story.” Sam flinched. That sounded pretty damn bad, all right. “I didn’t stop talking to you because I blamed you or anything stupid like that, I just wasn’t talking much to anyone. Even Dad, unless it was about a case, I didn’t say much.” Dean looked over. Sam was really trying not to, but he couldn’t help himself as the puppy eyes Dean teased him about came out. “Don’t go getting it in your head that this is your fault or I was jealous that you had a life outside of hunting or whatever. I came out here tonight hoping that seeing you would help me get over it and make me talk. It’s worked before.” He paused, lips quirking in a rueful smirk. “Guess it worked, didn’t it. Now I’m talking too damn much.”

“I think you’re talking a perfectly fine amount. I can understand why you’d never have said anything if you weren’t truth potioned into it, and I am sorry about that…”

Dean waved a hand with a snort. “I know better than to drink shit around here without expecting random-ass side effects. You weren’t expecting me. This is on me, dude, don’t go beating yourself up over it.”

“I’m not, because you’re right. Doesn’t mean I can’t be sympathetic.” Sam got Dean another beer. “Is this why you’re still here? Why you stood up to Dad when he said not to come out here?”

“Yeah. Never expected you to feel the same way, especially since you left.” Dean held up a hand as Sam tried to protest that leaving was about getting away from Dad and the hunting life. “I know. You had to go. You needed to get out of there before Dad caught you doing something you shouldn’t be able to do, before one of you killed the other, before some other hunter got wind that you had powers and decided to hunt your ass. Just would’ve thought it’d be harder to go if you felt the same about me.”

Sam huffed a soft laugh. “Yeah, no, it actually made it easier. Get out of there before something slipped and I made the one person who’s always supported me unconditionally find his breaking point and stop. I could live with you only being phone calls and the occasional visit if you could sneak off from Dad long enough. I couldn’t live with you hating me.”

“Fair enough. Hadn’t thought of it that way.” Dean fell silent for a bit. “So, what, you’re just… good with this? That easy, we’re boyfriends and brothers now?”

“Why not? Unless you think I’m lying, I don’t see that there’s anything to stop us. Fucked up, maybe, but what about our lives isn’t?” Sam finished off his beer. “Anything else you need to hear, or are we good to go elsewhere before you’re drunk enough that I’d feel obligated to shut you down?”

Dean started to stand up, but then sat right back down. “What do we tell your roommate? Can’t imagine he’ll just be ‘huh, okay, you’re fucking your brother, cool, do your thing.’ And that’s before taking into account the possibility that he’s got a thing for you, even. But on the other hand, gonna be hard to hide that I’m here and not crashing out here.”

Sam thought that over. Dean was right, it was going to be difficult. Way too late to try to pass Dean off as an old friend or even step or adoptive brother, which would be the easiest solution. “For tonight, we can just say you crashed in my room instead because Brady might bring a hookup back here and we didn’t want to explain a strange dude.”

“Since when does Brady hook up? Thought he was all about the no sex without a relationship stuff. One of the reasons you asked him to be your roommate instead of Luis, neither of you were into hookups so you didn’t have to worry about the awkwardness of having one over.”

Sam shrugged. Dean wasn’t wrong. “Since Thanksgiving. I don’t know. I was gonna ask him about that when we were talking about his possible feelings for me. Anyway, uh, for a long-term thing… I dunno, man. I really don’t. Not like you’re here that often, or for long, but… and speaking of that. When you’re not here, I don’t mind you going out and hooking up. Don’t tell me about it unless something I need to know about crops up, but I don’t want you having to explain to Dad why you’re not going out anymore.”

Dean reached out and took Sam’s hand. “You sure, Sammy? Because if you’re not comfortable with it… I can blame it on Cassie, no problem.”

“I’m fine with it in theory, I just don’t want to know about it. Really, Dean, it’s fine. You can’t stay here all the time, you’d go crazy, but you don’t need to be dealing with frustration and be impossible to live with, either. Best solution.” Sam gave Dean’s hand a squeeze. “Ready now?”

“Hell yeah. Wait.” Dean finished off the second beer. “Now I’m ready.”

 

When the bedroom door closed, Sam felt a wave of nerves. This was happening. Dean wanted this to happen. At least he could trust that. Any doubts he might have had disappeared when Dean kissed him. No hesitation, no fear, just love and desire. There was a moment of hesitation when clothes started coming off. Dean paused, hand on Sam’s jeans zipper. “You okay, Sammy?”

“Yeah, just… it’s one thing to have been dreaming about this for a while now, another to actually do it, you know? I’m fine, keep going, gonna be hard to do this with pants in the way.”

“We don’t have to do this tonight. If you need time…”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Sam pulled Dean in for a long kiss. “It’s a momentary weirdness. It’s gone. Over. Thanks for checking in with me, but I’m fine.”

“Okay.” The weirdness didn’t return, even as the two of them collapsed against the bed to recover from climax. Sam was rather surprised when Dean laid his head against his chest, though, and it must have showed. Dean looked up. “What? You know me, take care of Sammy is the top priority in my life, were you expecting me to just roll over and go to sleep? Come on, man, I never did that to any of my hookups, and don’t give me that look, I know you weren’t always sleeping when I brought ‘em back to the motel rooms we were sharing.”

“Very rarely, by that point in the hookup,” Sam muttered. “I dunno. Not counting tonight, the only guy I’ve ever been with turned out to be using me to fuck the gay out of his system. I know you wouldn’t do that to me, but.. I guess I just expected that fucking was one thing, but cuddling after? Too gay for you.”

“Nope. Got a name so I can hunt him down and kick his ass tomorrow while you’re in class?” Sam snorted, and Dean looked up at him. “Don’t tell anyone, it would totally ruin my macho image, but this is actually my favorite part of sex. Knowing that you got what you needed, what you wanted, and you still want me here anyway? Best feeling in the world.”

“Good enough to tolerate a chick flick moment?” Sam teased.

“Yeah, totally. That said, the moment will last a lot longer if you shut up and just let me enjoy this.” Dean laid his head back down, and Sam shut down his brain. Dean was right. This part was awesome.


End file.
